


Memento Mori

by Firewolf1988



Series: Wrath of the Light [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 04:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18003527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firewolf1988/pseuds/Firewolf1988
Summary: Teldrassil burns and the world mourns.





	Memento Mori

Mercy’s glowing hooves created a lighted pathway as charger and paladin raced through the streets. Buildings burned around her and screams dueled in the air with the crackling of fire. She long since shed her armor in the temple of Elune in the heart of Darnassus, light blessed as she was, Mercy could only carry so much weight. The tall paladin slid from the saddle and rushed into a burning building, protected only by a bubble of Light that formed around her.

Soon after, a family of Kal’dorei rush out and Myaka follows after them. Soot and ash settle even more over her already sullied clothes and hair, making the dark brown strands look like the true black color they normally appear. A child screams out and she turns to see burning debris falling towards the young girl.

She moves, a prayer of protection already flying to her lips. She already knows there isn’t enough time. Her outstretched hands connect and push the child forward as the burning wood land on top of the paladin instead. A cry is ripped from her throat but a shield springs quickly and pushes the planks from her prone form. She is stunned, feeling her skin blister and char from the flames clinging to the back of her tunic. After a second, she rolls, remembering an old fire safety chant from her childhood. The fire smolders and goes out under her. She pulls herself to her feet and sends Mercy back to the temple with the Kal’dorei family. 

She keeps running and moving through the homes and businesses, she ignores the burned skin, numbed from the severe burns on her back. Her only thought is a running tally.

_4 saved…_  
10 saved…  
15 saved… 

Every time she sends another family towards evacuation she ticks the mental number higher.   
_Not enough…nowhere near enough._

Smoke invaded her lungs and stole her breath, but she kept moving.  
 _30 saved…  
32 saved…_

It was getting harder to move through the area, even Mercy began to flag.

_36 saved…  
40 saved… ___

__She had to keep going, she had to find more people._ _

___45 saved…  
48 saved… ____ _

____Debris in her way stole her balance and she fell forward. The impact knocked what air remained her lungs free. She lay stunned, struggling to breath as she coughed harshly. The Light soothed her throat and gave her enough energy to heft herself to her feet. She stumbled to Mercy, looking around to see if she could find anymore people to save. The tree listed to one side, rocking like an earthquake. The horse canted to one side, pulling her towards the temple. She nodded and began to lead the horse towards the temple. Her heart was heavy, if she was lucky, she was able to send fifty people to the temple for evacuation. There were thousands, maybe tens of thousands of civilians living in Darnassus. She got barely any of those trapped in the city._ _ _ _

____They ran up the pathway leading to the temple, seeing the structure burning. It was a miracle of Elune the building had not collapsed already. The thought had barely passed her mind when she heard the front entrance creak and groan. A glance behind her revealed one last family running for safety. She shouted out, knowing she couldn’t do anything but prayed anyway…_ _ _ _

____A barrier of Light flared out around her, it expanded into a tall bubble, holding the entrance open and allowing the family and others to begin to stream into the opening and through the portal to Stormwind._ _ _ _

_____A power word barrier spell?_ She marveled at it, long ago she learned priest healing. After all, what was a paladin but a priest trained in martial combat, trained to weave the Light and combat into a cohesive whole? All of her healing spells and abilities had their basis in that beginning training in priesthood._ _ _ _

____She strained to maintain the barrier, out of practice she certainly was with priest magic, and in truth she had never learned this particular spell. The Light answered her prayer however and that was all that mattered._ _ _ _

____“Myaka!” Her brother’s voice called out behind her. “That’s enough! We have to evacuate.”_ _ _ _

____“There…might be…more coming.” She panted the words out, so much of her energy and focus devoted to maintaining the opening._ _ _ _

____“Myaka…Myaka please.” He pleaded, running towards her. “We have to leave.”_ _ _ _

____Black creeped in her vision. More debris fell from the ceiling to land on the barrier. She gasped out in pain. Falling to her knees as the barrier flickered and collapsed. She blacked out, watching the burning stone and wood fall towards her._ _ _ _

_________________________________________________________ _ _ _

____Nathan watched his sister rest with concern. They were able to pull her from the burning debris, but she had not yet awakened, and if she did not awaken soon…_ _ _ _

____“How many?”_ _ _ _

____The question pulled him short, and he looked more closely at her. Her eyes were still closed, but her breathing was no longer the weakened cadence of the recovering. “Mya?”_ _ _ _

____“How many Nathan?” She asked again, her eyes opening as she started to work herself upright. “How many didn’t make it out?”_ _ _ _

____“I…” How did he answer that. After a moment, he gave the only answer he could. “Too many, Mya. It…they are still doing counts.” He rushed forward, he knew she should rest but…”Mya.” His voice broke and she looked at him as she was able to work herself to a sitting position._ _ _ _

____“Mya…Mya, Papa…Papa, tried to help with the evacuation.” She gasped, air leaving her again as if the debris crushed her again. “Papa…he’s not well, he…they were able to get him back to Stormwind. But he…he won’t let them heal him.”  
“What?!” She gasped out, moving to stand even as she wobbled in her balance. “He…why?!”_ _ _ _

____He moved to prop her up, “Come, Mya you have to see him.”_ _ _ _

____“Of course I do! I have to convince him how much of an idiot he is.”_ _ _ _

____“Mya…” He trails sadly, “He misses mother.” The reminder brought her up short, her mother’s death during the invasions of the Legion hit her father harder than anything, it was well believed that was why he was so badly injured in the  
Shore. The Light cannot help those without the will to ask for it. Her shock had kept her quiet as they moved through the Cathedral of Light to the room her father rested in._ _ _ _

____“Do you want me there when you talk to him?” He asked gently. “This…is going to be your chance to say goodbye to him.”_ _ _ _

____“I…I will talk to him alone.” She said softly, walking slowly into the room._ _ _ _

____************************************_ _ _ _

____“Papa.” She breathed out. His salt and pepper hair was more salt with ash, his cheeks were sunken and skin pale. Had it really been this long since she saw him? Weakness and sickness had turned the man who had been so strong as she grew into a skeletal man who seemed so small in the bed._ _ _ _

____“Mya.” His voice was ready but warm. “Oh my sweet lil My-My.” The child nickname was a stake to the heart, he stopped calling her that when she was a little girl, no more then maybe ten. She had told him very matter of fact she was a ‘big girl’ now and she didn’t need such a childish nickname anymore, it was when they started to call her Mya._ _ _ _

____“Papa, I…” _Why are you leaving us? I want more time._ “Nathan says you…”_ _ _ _

____“Won’t let them keep me alive.” He says softly, she moved mechanically to his side. “Papa…” Her voice broke slightly as she kneeled by the bed. His hand reached up to cup the side of her face. She reaches up and rests her hand against his._ _ _ _

____“Mya, I am ready to see Tori again.” He says softly, his voice quiet and thready._ _ _ _

____She couldn’t ask him, she swallowed against the lump forming in her throat, hoping her voice stayed level. “Papa..” she breathed in softly, before Light started to form around her hand. She could see the pain and age loosen on his face, a smile forming as he realizes the Light is just enough to ease his pain._ _ _ _

____The Light eased her too, allowing her to speak past the pain damning her throat, to will the tears burning her eyes to not fall._ _ _ _

____“I love you, Papa. I am glad you will be with Mama again.” The nickname came easily, stopped for her mother around the time the nickname for her was no longer used. “Tell her we love her, and Nathan and I miss her dearly.” Another swallow that is eased by the thankful smile on her father’s face as he seems to relax further into the bed. The words came to her, spoken in any Last Rites, and she let them flow._ _ _ _

____“Go forth into the Light, Micah Winterborne, and be at peace.”_ _ _ _

____He breathed out, and his features relaxed fully into a peaceful cast. It was only when his eyes fluttered closed, and his hand slackened in her grasp against her cheek that she let the tears flow._ _ _ _

____******************************_ _ _ _

____Days had passed after the death of her father. Nathan let her have time to cry and sob after he peacefully passed into the Light’s embrace, and she willingly went back to her own room in the Cathedral to recover. Her walk to her father’s side had aggravated the injuries she sustained in the burning of the World tree. Burn scars now covered her back and shoulder blades, a reminder of the burning debris that landed on her as she worked at saving others. She knew she could have healed the burns easily, her time as the Highlord of the Silver Hand and her use of the Silver Hand itself marked her abilities in the holy arts. She wanted them of a reminder of what the Horde does, a reminder that they burn and raze everything they touch. She stood in the middle of the Sanctum of the Light, seeing the empty way it looked. Just weeks ago paladins of all races worked together to defeat the Burning Legion. She moved towards the area that weapons known to the Paladin order were held, a slight nod was all she did when she saw Truthguard hanging there. Her expression twisted into a scowl when she thought of the tauren sunwalker she had last tasked with using it to find the demonic commander Highlord Kruul. She had trusted the paladin had the best interest of the citizens of Azeroth in mind, only to see him leading a regiment of Horde soldiers in the skirmishes of Darkshore. Her first order after watching over her father was to remove every Blood Knight and Sunwalker from the Sanctum. They could not trust the Horde, she remembered the attempts to take the Divine Bell through Dalaran, an attempt uncovered by Lady Proudmoore who also forced the Sunwreavers from Dalaran._ _ _ _

_____Perhaps Lady Proudmoore saw the duplicitous nature of the Sin’dorei before the rest of us did._ She mused lightly. Truthguard had been recovered, the Ashbringer was also safe, used as it was by her brother Nathan. And of course, the Silver Hand had been in her possession until.._ _ _ _

____The thought of the large warhammer reminded her of her armor and the weapon that she left in the Temple when she started to assist the evacuation. The armor she didn’t care about however;_ _ _ _

____“Nathan, what became of the Silver Hand?” The large warhammer no longer held much of it’s legendary power, nearly all of it was lost when the power of the artifact was used to drain away the dangerous energy left in the great sword plunged into the planet by a dark titan. She continued to use it, it was a mark of her time in the Silver Hand, and she couldn’t bring herself to toss the weapon away._ _ _ _

____“We…were able to salvage it but, something…happened.” She turned to look at him, confused by his words, he motioned her towards another area of the armory. A large warhammer rested in a weapon stand. She realized as she got closer that it was the Silver Hand, but as her brother said the weapon looked much different._ _ _ _

____The head was burned, and pieces of it had broken off, giving the head the rough hewn shape of a gravestone left to be weathered by the elements. Vines added to the old look, snaking around the head and highlighting the only marking left from the original hammer; a closed fist in a circular marking. Blue flowing mist like energy drifted around the closed fist, it made her think of the wisps that the Kal’dorei become when they die._ _ _ _

____She leaned down and griped the pommel and a gasp worked its way through her. The hammer hummed with a solemn power. It was not the warm healing feeling of the Light, but a cold sadness. It was a mother mourning the loss of a child; a husband mourning a wife; A friend mourning another friend; a…_ _ _ _

____A daughter mourning her father._ _ _ _

____“Sorrow.” She says softly, “Loss. Darnassus left its mark even on the weapon of Tyr.”_ _ _ _

____“It is still not as strong as it was before the Sword.” Nathan echoed. “But the Silver Hand was bolstered by something.”_ _ _ _

____She frowned, the name didn’t feel right any more. The weapon, what ever had changed it, was no longer the Silver Hand. It was no longer a weapon showing the endless bolstering ability of the Light, it was- “A memento mori.” Myaka murmured softly, finishing her thought. “It has been bolstered by the memories of those fallen. By the sorrow and pain of those mourning those the Horde slaughtered in their cruelty.”_ _ _ _

____“Memento Mori.” Nathan tested the name, even though Myaka already knew how well it fit. She could feel the weapon hum in her grip. “A worthy name for what it has become.”_ _ _ _

____A messenger ran towards the two, stating Myaka was wanted for a diplomatic meeting to assist the Alliance in preparing for full war with the Horde._ _ _ _

____“A fitting song.” Myaka says softly as she moves to follow the messenger. “One I will make sure is echoed by every butcher that calls the Horde home.”_ _ _ _


End file.
